


A Merry Chase

by savvyliterate



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2011-10-13
Updated: 2011-12-22
Packaged: 2017-10-24 14:17:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 19,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/264435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/savvyliterate/pseuds/savvyliterate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the Doctor arrives to spirit River away from the Stormcage for the first time, he discovers she's already saved herself -- and is bent on driving him insane. She leads him on a madcap chase across time and space as she seeks to discover herself and he accepts what she really means to him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Stormcage, and What the Doctor Didn't Find There

**Author's Note:**

> I really wanted to do a wedding night story for these two, but also address some of the issues that were pushed to the side by the limited storytelling space Moffat was allotted. I wanted to see River really develop into who she was, and I don't think she'd settle into her marriage without knowing that. While scared and alone, I don't think River would wait too long to test her limits ... in a very showy way. This is my first multi-chaptered piece with these two as they leapfrog around time and space in the world's longest wedding night ever. And maybe, just maybe, they'll finally get a chance to get on the same page and drive each other crazy in a very good way.

Prologue: The Stormcage, and What the Doctor Didn't Find There

The Doctor was dead.

Wasn’t that _fantastic?_

He couldn’t help grinning like a fool as he spun through the TARDIS, the weight of several worlds off his shoulders. Dorium Maldovar’s head was safely back in the Seventh Transept, his taunting question already pushed to the back of his mind. Fields of Trenzalore? Ha! It was a fairy tale. OK, so Pandora’s Box had been a fairy tale as well, and look how that turned out, but oh, who really cared at the moment? He was dead, yet he wasn’t thanks to his own cleverness and the _Teselecta_. Oh, and River. Couldn’t have done it without River. Brave, stubborn, brilliant River who had built a homing signal on top of a pyramid! That’d been quite brilliant, though he didn’t admit it at the time. Other than the crew of the _Teselecta_ , River was the only living being in the universe that knew he truly didn’t die at Lake Silencio on April 22, 2011, and that was because she’d been stubborn enough, smart enough and so much in love with him that he had to share his plans with her.

And, maybe, it was because he loved her as well.

“All right!” The Doctor announced to the TARDIS as he bounced from lever to lever, setting coordinates that had become extremely familiar to him since the Byzantium. “Dorium’s settled and the Ponds …,” he flipped a lever to turn on a monitor to show Amy and … He squinted at the version of River there, recognizing the fatigues she’d worn in the Byzantium. “And the Ponds are OK! All three of them! Look at those amazing Ponds! Laughing, dancing. She’s told them, hasn’t she? It’s all right I suppose.”

The TARDIS hummed her agreement and the Doctor turned the monitor off. He probably was the one to tell River to tell them anyhow, so he mentally made a note to do just that. But, for now, he could do anything he wanted. He could visit the Three Moons of Farxla as they went through a simultaneous eclipse. He could go attend one of George Washington’s infamous dancing parties during the Revolutionary War. And, he’s always wanted to visit Disneyland Clom.

Who better to go with than his wife?

He flew into the wardrobe, tearing through racks of clothing with a maniacal glee as he searched for his tux. River. _His wife._ He’d always been rubbish at weddings, and he was quite sure he’d managed to successfully get out of the last several he’d gotten himself into. Somewhere in time, Liz I was waiting in a glade for him to join him and Marilyn Monroe was waiting for him to sign a wedding certificate after he insisted the pen had run out of ink, left and never headed back. But River … Well, she was different. She was River. Well, not quite yet, but she was getting there. Still a good bit of Melody Pond in her. Uncertainty, recklessness, no regard at all for things such as fixed points in time.

He paused in the middle of pulling on his jacket. They really needed to have a discussion about that.

Oh, but she was getting there. Every time he stumbled upon her in university during the 200 years he’d been on the run, she’d been more River and less Melody, and it was a gorgeous thing to watch. He’d met her when she’d known everything about him. It had impressed him, baffled him, infuriated, aroused and a whole dictionary of other emotions. He remembered when he’d stopped fighting what she would become to him, when she had wrapped her small hand around his and turned it so he could read the prayer leaf in his hand and see the TARDIS translate the words “Melody Pond” into the language and naming structure of the Gamma Forests — “River Song.”

The Doctor sailed out of the wardrobe as the TARDIS settled with a wheeze of the brakes and a thump. They had a lifetime together to sort out the bits and bobs of it all. What he told Dorium had been the absolute truth. River’s days might belong to the Stormcage, but the nights were between the two of them, and he had every intention of enjoying them no matter what they brought. He was the one who put her in the Stormcage. The very least he could do was break her out of it and let her see the universe she had barely glimpsed as a free woman before being kidnapped by the Silence. Besides, it was their wedding night, and he owed her a dance.

He stepped out of the TARDIS and into the middle of a prison riot.

The Stormcage Containment Facility was considered the highest-security facility in the universe as of the 52nd century. It made Alcatraz look like one of those inflatable castles filled with balls that could be found in 20th century parks. He was rather fond of those. The facility filled the entire planet and, really, it was a very unpleasant place to stay. It rained constantly, and the food was reported to be the absolute worst in three galaxies.

Several troops of clerics ran by in formation, but the Doctor quickly snagged one of them. “What’s going on?”

“Sorry sir, visiting area’s back in the main facility, about 5 miles that way.” The cleric nodded toward a white spear of a building in the distance. “Care for a lift? I can get a transit pod out here for you.”

“No need.” The Doctor pulled out his psychic paper and flashed it at the cleric. “Jack Harkness, Time Agency. Dropped by to check out the situation.”

“Oh, it’s good to see you, sir.” A look of relief passed over the cleric’s face. “The warden sent out a call for help. Right this way, please.”

The Doctor’s previous glimpses of the Stormcage had been from the hallway where River’s cell was located, so he took great interest in noting handy exits and the layout of the circular building. The cleric buzzed them in through a series of locks and a palm-print reader, then beckoned the Doctor inside.

The warden was a heavyset man in his mid-50s dressed in a business suit and looking very put-out. “You’re the Time Agent?” he barked as the Doctor and cleric approached.

“Jack Harkness.” The Doctor flashed the psychic paper again. “What seems to be the trouble?”

“Come with me.” He strode down the corridor, huffing a bit as if he wasn’t used to the exercise - and judging from the pricey suit and shoes along with the pudgy abdomen, the Doctor figured exercise wasn’t on his daily regime. “Prisoners were being taken outside for their mandated recreation period when It happened. Two inmates from different sectors got into a fistfight, although quite a few say the escapee provoked them.” They turned down a second corridor. “By the time we rounded everyone for a headcount, she was gone.”

“She?”

“Oh, yes. _Her._ Dr. River Song.” The warden spat the words as if they were a chaw of tobacco he was getting rid of. “We called in the Time Agents because she’s known to have access to a number of time-traveling devices including vortex manipulators and rumor has it she can even control a TARDIS.”

“You don’t say? She must be in here for a heinous crime?”

“The absolute worst.” The warden stopped outside of an open cell where guards flanked the door. “She’s in here for the murder of the Doctor. She left an unusual message though, so I’m hoping you or someone at the Time Agency will be able to figure out what it means.”

“Hmm …” The Doctor made a noncommittal sound and really tried to fight the urge not to grin. He nearly succeeded. “Can I take a look?” he asked, gesturing at the cell.

“By all means.” The warden stepped aside.

The Doctor knew what he would find in the cell. He knew her — her calling cards, messages, whatever marks she could leave behind that were a siren’s song to him. For this one, a prison uniform had been cut up, the ends tied together and looped into cursive writing on the floor, the sparse furniture pushed against the walls to give the author enough space for the words. Even before he could read the writing, he knew what it said:

 **  
_“Hello, sweetie.”_   
**

“So, it begins,” he murmured under his breath with both disappointment and a great deal of pride. He straightened and grinned. “Well, nothing more to be done here. If you’ll pardon me, I must be taking off!” The Doctor clasped the warden’s shoulder. “Good luck finding your prisoner!”

The warden’s jaw sagged, anger flashing in his eyes. “Aren’t you suppose to help us, Harkness? You’re with the Time Agency! You’re the best there is!”

“Oh, about that …” The Doctor backed away and really hoped there weren’t too many clerics flanking the exit. “I’m not really Jack Harkness. Hair’s all wrong, and I don’t think he’d care too much for the tux. Too many clothes on and really not his style.”

“Who are you?” The warden barked, then started pursuing the Doctor. “You helped her, didn’t you?”

“No, no, I can promise you that I didn’t help her escape!” Not this time. Maybe. He was quite sure he had a hand in a number of River’s escapes, but this one wasn’t on the list. At least, he didn’t think he helped her escape unless it was a future version of himself. Not that it would be completely out of character for him to do that. After all, he’d been planning to spirit her away himself, but really, who was concerned with a minor detail like that? “You said she killed the Doctor, right?”

“That’s right.” The clerics who had kept vigil outside of the cell now surrounded the warden and took aim at the Doctor.

He looked at the five guns pointed at him and grinned. “Then, River Song could be anywhere in the universe.”


	2. Cardiff, or River Goes Where She's Needed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Torchwood Three, this takes place between the events of "Exit Wounds"/"Journey's End" and "Children of Earth," roughly in the fall/winter 2008 for Jack and crew. This is my first time writing younger River, as well as Jack for a prolonged period and Ianto at all, so I hope everything turned out well. As for Jack and River, this is River's second time meeting him in her personal timeline, but Jack, like the Doctor, is very familiar with older River -- hence why he knows more about the situation than he should seem to. One day, I might write the adventure alluded to with Jack, River and the Doctor during River's university years.

River didn’t take an easy breath until the vortex manipulator off one of the Stormcage guards was strapped on her wrist, and she was flung through time to an era that was nowhere near the 52nd century, and certainly not in the same galaxy as the Stormcage. She’d programmed time and destination in a rush as the clerics had surrounded the small black market shop she’d lifted the manipulator from. She only hoped it was a time and place somewhat familiar to her.

Traffic buzzed around the area and she recognized Roald Dahl Plass and and the Wales Millennium Centre. Cardiff, she thought. Early 21st century. OK, she could work with this until she decided what to do next.

“I need cash, a decent weapon and a place to stay,” River murmured to herself as she got the lay of the area. She scooped her curls out of her eyes and spotted a man in suit standing a few feet away holding a takeout container with three coffees, giving her a considering look. She silently swore. He probably saw her arrive. She dipped into her pocket, fingering the tube of hallucinogenic lipstick that she’d managed to smuggle into, and subsequently out of, the Stormcage. She didn’t have much left.

Before she could do anything, the man spoke up. “You must be one of Jack’s friends. Might as well come in. It doesn’t look like you’re dressed to go anywhere else.”

River looked down at the tank, sports bra and yoga pants she wore. She’d gladly torn up her prison uniform, but hadn’t had a chance to snag a change of clothing on her way out. Without saying a word to the man, her hand still closed over the lipstick. She calculated how she could sweep the man’s legs out from under him if need be, if the coffee was hot enough to do any actual damage. If she could stun him long enough to reapply her lipstick, she could get away. As dangerous as it was to follow the stranger, she could work it to her advantage. Satisfied she had a backup plan in place, River followed the man across the Plass.

“Stop there, if you please?” The man nodded to her at a particularly nondescript part of the park, then stood next to her. “Coffee?” he offered the tray. “Take the corner one. Doctored up as you’d say.”

“Thanks.” River took the coffee more as a potential weapon than a drink.

“I’m back, and I’ve brought a guest,” the man said into an earpiece, and the slab beneath them began to descend.

“An invisible lift? Very clever.” River’s grip tightened on the coffee as she took in the emerging underground dwelling. She really hoped he couldn’t see that she was impressed.

“Quite. Between you and me, I still quite can’t get over it at times,” the man admitted. He offered his free hand. “Ianto Jones.”

Before River answered, the lift settled.

“River Song!” Jack Harkness came bounding up to the platform, arms stretched wide as he approached. “You’ve finally accepted my offer!”

It took her a moment for her to realize where she was, and when she did, River’s answering smile was as bright as the sun. “Jack!” She flew off the platform and into his arms, never so grateful in her life to see a friend.

——

Jack quickly ushered River into his office while Ianto handed off the other coffee to a woman named Gwen, who looked curious about their guest but a call on her mobile distracted her.

“I know, I know, we got to check.” Jack gestured to a chair, then pulled a battered brown journal from his desk as River removed her diary from where she’d tucked it in the waistband of her pants against the small of her back. “Looks like you’re in pretty rough shape. Where’d you see the Doctor last?” he asked as he flipped through the pages.

“Utah.”

His head snapped up, eyes filled with sympathy. “I’m sorry,” he murmured.

“He’s …” She started to speak, then stopped. No one knew that the Doctor was alive. Not even her parents. Jack Harkness was brilliant and the finest Time Agent she knew. “It’s OK, Jack.”

“It’s not OK.” Jack tossed the journal back in his drawer and leaned back in his seat, propping his feet on the desk. “You look like hell.”

“Let’s say it’s been a very long few days. You know the Stormcage isn’t exactly a 5-star hotel.” River sat back, remembered the coffee she still held. She sipped at it and scowled. “Saccharin. I really hate traveling to a time that hasn’t banned it yet.”

“Tell me about it. Want mine? It’s black.”

“That’s quite all right.” River set the coffee on the desk and gave Jack a considering look. “You’re not going to ask me what happened?”

Jack flashed her a grin. “Spoilers.”

River scowled and took a sip of coffee. “One day, I will make you both rue the times that was ever said to me.”

“How do you know each other?” Ianto asked from the doorway, where he held a fresh pot of coffee and a bag of clothes.

“Remember that freelance work I did right after the Medusa Cascade? Took me forward in time to an archaeological expedition where I met this lovely student for the first time — from her point of view. Brilliant archaeologist and skilled in more areas of deadly combat than I can count. Was in the final stages of her Ph.D when we had our adventure together.”

It had involved dinosaurs, an enchanted artifact and lots of running, River remembered fondly. It was one of the earliest adventures in her book and apparently the first time the Doctor had seen Jack since he regenerated into his 11th form. During the expedition, Jack told her about Torchwood and kept pressing her to hop back to the 21st century and join him once she was done with her studies. Like the Doctor, River suspected she would meet Jack along different points of his timeline as during their first meeting, Jack had swooped in and soundly kissed her in front of the Doctor, treating her like an old friend rather than someone he’d never met. The Doctor’s baffled look, then snarling, then jealous sputtering was one of the memories that kept her going during the aborted timeline. But, like the Doctor, Jack seemed to know a great deal about her from later points in her life, so the diary rule was quickly invoked for him as well.

“You knew when we were on Trfaxa, didn’t you?” River asked. “You knew I killed the Doctor.”

“Of course I did.” Jack took his feet off the desk. “But, you didn’t come across like a psychopath to me.”

“Oh, Jack.” For the first time in what felt like a very long time, River grinned. “I am very much a psychopath.”

“One with great taste. All that flirting. I really hope someone finally threw the two of you in a locked room and threw away the key. I’ll be happy to do it if you’ll shoot video and give it to me.” He waggled his eyebrows and she laughed.

“No, it hasn’t come to that, yet.”

“Yet? But, it will?”

“I can’t tell you that, Jack. I promised. Besides, I have a feeling if there’s anyone else’s timeline that’s as messed up as mine and the Doctor’s, it’s ours.”

“You’re not breaking your promise if I don’t believe the Doctor’s dead in the first place.”

Ianto handed the bag to River. “These look like they should fit. It’s just a few things we have in storage, but Gwen said she’ll take you over to the shops later if you want.”

She gratefully accepted the bag. “What year is this?”

“November 2008.”

River considered. Mels was still around since it was still a couple years before Amy and Rory’s wedding. In the final stages of her training, she thought. She had quite the nest egg she’d developed away from the account the Silence had settled on her, and if Jack gave her access to a computer for a few minutes, it was child’s play to set up a new account and syphon some of those funds to it. After all, it technically wasn’t stealing when it was from yourself.

“Got a computer?” she asked Jack. “I have some accounts I can tap, but I need to do some transfers first.”

“Before you do that, why don’t you consider my offer? We lost two team members not long ago.” The sorrow in his eyes reflected the pain and guilt he still held over that. “We’ve somewhat filled part of the gap with Dr. Martha Jones from UNIT working with us freelance, but we could really use you. And, maybe, you need us as well.”

Maybe, River thought, she did.

——

 _Six weeks later_

“Whatcha doing?” Jack joined River at Owen’s old desk, which she had cleaned and commandeered for herself.

“Building some things. If this works, this should deactivate any security camera.” River pushed the magnifying goggles she wore off her eyes and aimed a small laser at one of the hub’s security cameras. The recording light immediately winked out.

Jack whistled under his breath. “What sort of illicit favors do I need to offer to convince you to let Torchwood keep that gizmo?”

River grinned. “None.” She offered him the laser. “This one is Torchwood’s. I have one for myself already tucked away.”

Jack immediately pocketed it. “You’re building quite an arsenal for yourself.”

“I’ll need it once I head back to the Stormcage.”

His brow furrowed. “You know, most people when they break out of the Stormcage Containment Facility wouldn’t exactly be looking to get back in. And if there’s anyone who has common sense in spades, it’s you, River Song.”

“Flattery like that won’t get me in that negligee for yours and Ianto's stag party, Jack.” She kissed the corner of his mouth. “I do appreciate you trying.”

“It’ll just be for five minutes …”

“O’axian lace is known to dissolve human skin within three minutes of contact!”

“Yeah, but it’s sexy as hell.” He raised his hands in supplication as River glared at him. “I tease, I tease! Still, you’ve been doing amazing work. Half the unidentified artifacts in the hub are now identified thanks to you.”

“And they should be moved into a secure location.” River pulled off the goggles and surveyed her work bench, trying to decide what to work on next. Her toolbox was fairly complete, but there were always a few more things.

“What’s more secure than the Hub?”

“Off-site, Jack.” River picked up a narrow tube and a mechanical pencil designed to be ergonomically correct. She held the two next to each other, nodded, then began to disassemble the pencil to turn it into a sonic device.

“But why …”

“Spoilers. Trust me on this.”

“I trust you with anything.”

“I like to hear that.

"So maybe you want to tell me why you’re running from the Doctor.”

The pencil immediately broke into pieces in River’s hands. Swearing under her breath, she scooped them together so she could twist the ends back in place. “I never said I was running from anyone.”

“Ah, but you just confirmed it. What happened with you two? Last I saw, in your linear time, he was about as besotted with you as I’d ever seen him with Rose Tyler. And, believe me, he was besotted with Rose.” Jack’s grin was a bit wistful as he said this. “Not that being besotted with Rose was a bad thing per se.”

Rose was among one of the people River wanted to sneak back in time to meet. But, maybe in a little while. “How can I be running from a dead man?”

“You and I both know he’s not dead, so don’t play that card with me. If there’s anyone who can recognize a con, it’s a con artist.”

She didn’t answer him for a few minutes. She finished reassembling the pencil, then grabbed a small soldering iron to secure the pieces in place. As the iron hummed, she slowly turned the pencil so the melted plastic could distribute evenly around the barrel. “The Doctor never told me all that much about Rose, but I learned quite a bit about her doing my thesis. I have a theory regarding her and your immortality. Words scattered across time and space as a message to herself.”

“Bad Wolf,” Jack confirmed. “Rose took the TARDIS into herself and used the power to kill the Daleks and revive me when I died. She didn’t have control of her power and went too far. The Doctor took it out of her, forcing his regeneration into his tenth form.”

“Did either of you regret what she did? Get angry at her?”

“No. Why would we?” Jack laughed a bit. “Sure, if I could have it otherwise, I’d be mortal again. But, Rose loved us both. Yeah, what she did was risky and selfish some would say, but she did it out of love. Neither of us even thought about blaming her. Hell, the Doc and I blamed ourselves for Rose having been put into the decision to make that choice to begin with.”

“Would he be angry if someone did it for him again?” River put down the soldiering iron and kept staring at the solid pencil in her hands.

Jack laid his hand over hers. “What happened, River?”

She took a shuddering breath and told him about Lake Silencio.

——

An hour and a bottle of wine later, they sat on the balcony outside the coffee area, their feet dangling over the sides as they propped their arms on the rail.

“From what you were telling me, he doesn’t sound that miserable about being married to you.” Jack waved the water tumbler he was using in lieu of a proper wine glass. “Don’t tell me you regret it.”

“Would you?”

Jack howled with laughter. “I’ve been trying to get into his pants for years. You actually married him. I’m surprised you don’t have him handcuffed to a bed having the shag of your life.”

River tilted her head, winked, and saluted him with her coffee mug filled with wine. “Oh, there’s other toys to use beside the handcuffs in an epic shag.”

“Oh, I can name at least 50 without trying. What’re your favorites?”

She flashed a grin at Jack. “I’ll tell you when you’re older.”

“Who’s the young one of the two of us again?”

“Touché.” River drained her mug and gazed at the network of pipes crisscrossing the Hub’s ceiling. Her life was very much like that maze, twisting and turning and not quite sure where it was coming out. “I want to know who I am outside of the Doctor. Do you understand?”

Jack sobered, twisting his tumbler in his hands. “Yeah. More than you’ll ever know.” He gazed out at the Hub, at Ianto and Gwen talking at her desk, laughing at something she had up on her computer. “Torchwood came about because of the Doctor, but this? It’s mine. He asked me, several times, to join him again. And, hell, I wanted to so badly, River. But, I was afraid I’d forget who I was without him, and so I stayed away.”

“He does have a habit of sweeping in and taking over, doesn’t he?” She smiled fondly. “Bless.”

“Yeah.”

“I don’t regret any of it, Jack. But, I know him. I could see it in his eyes when he was dancing about in the Teselecta. He would come swooping into the Stormcage first chance he got and carry me off. And I’d be so much in love and so grateful that I’d forget that I’d be letting him mold me into the person he met in my future. I’m sick of letting other people control my destiny, and I’m not going to let anyone, no matter how much I love them, do it to me again.” River filled the mug with the last of the wine and set the empty bottle aside. “Ever since Berlin, I’ve wondered who River Song is. I think I figured out most of it. But, I want to find out the rest on my own, without the Doctor or my parents.”

“He’ll find you eventually. How will you deal with it?”

“If I’m not ready, I’ll leave. I’m doing this on my terms, Jack.”

“So, pretty much, you’re going to allow the Doctor to chase you through space while you find yourself?”

River chuckled, imagining the cross, yet determined look the Doctor would have once he figured out what was going on. “I don’t think he could resist the challenge.”

“He’d probably find it a huge turn-on knowing him.” Jack held out his tumbler and River clinked her mug against it. “Good for you. And when you find yourself?”

“Then I’ll use the handcuffs on him.”

“That’s my girl.”

\-----

About four months after River’s arrival, Ianto headed aboveground for more coffee and spotted a familiar blue box fade into view over the Rift. Ianto stepped back into the perception filter and tapped his earpiece. “The Doctor’s here,” he said to Jack.

“Which one?”

“Not the one I saw before, when you were in the Medusa Cascade. This one looks like he’s about my age. Has floppy hair, a tweed jacket and a bowtie. You said he takes on different forms right?”

“Yeah, and I know which one that is. Well, bring him on in.” Jack turned off the earpiece and spotted River, who already had a rucksack slung over her shoulder and a vortex manipulator strapped to her wrist. “You shouldn’t be listening in on conversations,” he scolded with a playful wag of his finger.

She gave him a wistful smile. “It was about time anyhow.”

“You still don’t want to see him?”

“Not yet.” She grasped his hand. “Thank you for letting me stay with you, Ianto and Gwen.”

“Hell, we needed you far more than you needed us. C’mere.” Jack pulled River into a bear hug, capping it with a gentle kiss. “Figure that’s the only time I’ll be able to do that without repercussions,” he said with a wink.

She laughed and shook her head.

Jack opened his desk drawer and took out a vortex manipulator. “It’s a spare,” he said and handed it over. “That and the extra goodies I slipped into your bag a few days ago should help you out.”

River put the spare manipulator in her bag and secured it. “Thank you, Jack. How much …”

He waved it off. “Consider it your final paycheck.” He sobered. “Anything you want to say to him?”

River handed Jack an envelope. “This is for him.”

“Where’re you headed?”

River smiled, blew Jack a kiss and activated the vortex manipulator.

——

The smoke had barely cleared when the Doctor and Ianto came into the room. The Doctor sniffed, recognizing the faint scorched scent of ozone that a vortex manipulator left behind. Feeling his age, he crossed his arms over his chest and rocked back on his heels. “She was here, wasn’t she?”

“Just left. Sorry, Doc.” Jack gave him a sympathetic look. The Doctor looked tired and every bit his supposed age, whatever he was saying it was today. There was a slight crease of worry between his eyes that he just couldn’t quite hide. “She left you a message.” Jack handed over the envelope River left.

The Doctor tore into it, pulling out a single index card. He glanced at it, up at Jack and Ianto’s curious looks, then coughed a bit. “Hello, sweetie,” he read aloud. “Gone to visit relatives.”

“Relatives?” The only time River had mentioned Amy Pond and Rory Williams to him was when she told him about Lake Silencio and Area 52. “You mean Amy and Rory?”

“Only ones she’s got. Well, by blood in any case. Might have picked up another here and there, though.”

“So I hear.” Jack clapped the Doctor’s shoulder. “You know, if I hadn’t heard it from the blushing bride herself, I’d never believe you’d got married!”

“Well, it’s all out of order a bit, and there’s a lot having to do with aborted timelines and robots. And we never did have a dance. Trying to rectify that one.” The Doctor tapped the card to his nose and caught a faint whiff of a familiar perfume. He couldn’t quite place what it was that River, at least as of when she was a university student, tended to wear. It was something her older self favored as well. It was alluring, yet comforting, at the same time. “I did wear a hat. I wore a cool hat.”

“Are you sure she wants to be found, Doc? It is River after all.”

“Jack, if she didn’t want me to find her, she wouldn’t have left me this.” He flipped the card over to the back and squinted at the minuscule writing in the bottom right corner. His eyes lit up. Gallifreyan numbers. “Oh! And I know where to look!”


	3. Leadworth, or how two Rivers can drive the Doctor doubly insane

In the garden of the Pond-Williams home in Leadworth, three adults celebrated with laughter, wine and tears. There was dancing, a little shrieking, a terrified “Oh, God, I’m really his mother-in-law” followed by even more laughter, and then they finally settled around the table as a call went out for pizza and notes compared about when and where they were in time.

Inside the darkened kitchen, the Doctor twitched one of the lace curtains aside and smiled at the Ponds. All three of his Ponds, he mused as he let it fall back into place. He stepped into the shadows before River could notice. And, she would. She noticed everything. He rather liked that. A lot.

The TARDIS was parked at the end of the upstairs hall, and he’d taken the time to cloak her. He peeked in the different rooms. Master bedroom with attached loo. That was Amy and Rory’s. A bedroom stacked with boxes. A second loo for the remaining two bedrooms to share. Oh, it really was a nice house. He hadn’t actually looked in it before waving the psychic paper about, tapping his banked UNIT funds and securing it for Amy and Rory. He just liked the color. And the garden. If you had to be stuck in one spot, you at least needed a nice garden.

The third bedroom door was slightly ajar. He nudged it open and slipped inside, barely making a whisper.

There she sat, the younger version of the woman outside. It was a rare instance to see them so close together. Really, it was quite dangerous, but the Doctor couldn’t bring himself to do anything about it at the moment. Older River, fresh from the Byzantium, had a more grounded look about her. It was something he couldn’t … _wouldn’t_ … have appreciated at the time. She was settled, at peace with everything that she’d gone through for him.

Younger River had an air of restlessness about her. One foot jiggled even as she leaned against the windowpane, and she was hugging herself. Oh, there was still a hint of the bespoke psychopath in her, and he knew it would always be there. But in the years she’d been in university, Melody Pond had gone through a metamorphosis, and the result was River Song. The school had been her cocoon, a safety net she had used to start creating herself. The Doctor suddenly thought of Rose and Bad Wolf, how she had created herself then as well. In a way, both of them were alike. They’d been touched by the TARDIS — one who had taken the TARDIS into her, the other the child of the TARDIS. That exposure had changed them both, made them stronger, made them more than a shop girl and a brainwashed child.

River pushed the curtain aside, gazing at the stars. Her eyes closed, and she hummed beneath her breath. She didn’t even bother to look over her shoulder. She knew. “Hello, sweetie.”

Swallowing, he managed to find his voice. “Hello, River.”

The Doctor rocked back on his heels, frowning. It’d been easier if he’d come across her in the middle of her doing something ridiculous. Like hurtle herself through space or off a high building into his arms. She really loved doing that. He’d even had a grand speech planned for their wedding night, when he had originally planned to spirit her away from the Stormcage only to find she’d done it herself. He scowled. He liked that speech.

Not quite sure what to do, and really if this was the right River, he didn’t want her to bolt again, he began fiddling with the light switch. “Nice room.”

River smiled and finally looked at him, hugging herself once more. “I believe it’s mine.”

“Really?” He stopped playing with the switch and took in the room. It was the smaller of the bedrooms, but tastefully decorated with nice furniture. Bureau, wardrobe, a bed large enough for a couple. Small nightstands flanked the bed with lamps on them.

“I can hear them out in the garden,” River indicated the window.

Shoving his hands in his pockets, The Doctor sauntered over, peering over her head. “ _Byzantium,_ ” he murmured before he could stop himself.

River tilted her head back. “Pardon?”

His eyebrows rose, and he swore under his breath. “Nothing.”

She grinned. “Spoilers,” she said in a sing-song voice.

“You’re one to talk,” he grumbled. “I spent six months looking for you before tracking you down to Torchwood.”

“It’s been that long?” River unfolded her arms, and he saw her diary rested in her lap. Tongue caught between her teeth, she flipped through the pages. He was relieved to see that it wasn’t that much further past the time he’d seen her scribbling down their adventures together when she was in university. He knew those pages now, the beginning of her book. Berlin, the first trip he urged her to keep their encounters recorded, subsequent university-related adventures, and he presumed Area 52 and their almost meeting at Torchwood Three. “Yes, Torchwood was the last, though I suppose it doesn’t count. It’s been six months since then for me.”

“Oh.” He wasn’t able to quite hide the sulk, and River rolled her eyes.

“You’re just upset because I broke myself out of the Stormcage before you could.”

“That has nothing to do with it.” OK, it had everything to do with it, but he wasn’t about to tell her that.

“Yes, it does.” River closed her diary, resting her hands atop it. “My love, I know you. You want to know why I didn’t wait for you.”

She tucked the diary into the inside pocket of her jeans jacket, got to her feet, kissed the corner of his mouth and grabbed his hand. She tugged him toward the bed. “Come here.”

“Here?” he all but squeaked. He gave the window a frantic look, then the bed. She was taking him to bed? In her parents’ house? No, no, no, no, no, this wasn’t in the plans. They were going to talk about things, and he was going to persuade her to take a trip or two with him. Maybe six or ten. And he owed her a dance, and they probably should talk, but not near a bed, because they would most likely engage in activities involving a bed. Highly enjoyable activities involving a bed. Why was he thinking about a bed? Oh, because now River was laying on it.

“Oh, stop it. Now you’re just putting on an act.” River patted the mattress next to her. “Lie down, and look at the ceiling.”

Curious now, the Doctor kicked off his shoes and joined her on the bed. He turned his eyes to the ceiling, and they widened with wonder. “Oh, Amelia Pond,” he said with wonder as they stared at the star-covered ceiling.

“This is how I knew this was mine, even before they talked about it outside. All the stars. They knew that even here, I’d never want to be that far from them. They must have followed a star chart. There’s Orion.” River slipped her right hand into his left and used her free hand to point at the constellations. “The Big Dipper and the Little Dipper. Ursa Major and Ursa Minor. Amy put a lot of work into this.”

Her hand felt good in his, felt right, and it calmed him. “I always wanted a room like this growing up. Did Amy ever tell you about my childhood?” she asked as she laced their fingers together and gently pulled them apart before using a fingertip to trace each digit of his hand. He shivered, his breath catching slightly as she dipped between two fingers, then swooped up to the fingertip and back down.

“No,” he admitted with a whoosh of air, suddenly eager to find out more about that part of her. When she’d been Mels and the lost little girl begging the President of the United States for help. When he failed her again and again. “Well, not so much as didn’t tell me as I didn’t think to ask, but really, you had just try to kill me in the TARDIS, River.”

“Oh, my love. Always bringing up the technicalities.” She pushed an errant curl out of her eyes. “I don’t remember much of my original form. Little Melody. Something about an orphanage, a spacesuit and President Nixon. I remember wandering through New York and the first regeneration. Then they came, the Silence. They swooped me up, took me forward in time to Leadworth. I was ordered to make friends with Amy and Rory. Not that it was all that hard, I suppose. When I wasn’t with them, I was training. All that troublemaking was part of it. We stayed in council flats, which is why Amy never visited me. They watched me all the time. I never even slept alone. I suppose that’s because I escaped once before. I always wanted a room of my own, just like this. I was ordered to always think of you. But instead, I thought of the stars, and if I had parents somewhere who loved me.”

“I’m sorry.” The words rushed out before he could stop them. They sounded so pathetic, but it didn’t make them any less honest.

“Not everything in the universe is your fault, my love.” She stopped playing with his fingers and propped herself on her elbow to look down at him. “Just like not everything in the universe revolves around you.”

“It’s not?” he asked with mock playfulness. She laughed, a throaty, sultry sound that sent another shiver of awareness through him.

“No. It’s not. Do you understand what I’m telling you?”

His hand found her cheek, his thumb absently stroking the soft skin there. Funny, but he was starting to have a hard time breathing. It was probably the venting. Amy and Rory really should do something about it. Or, the rational side of him that was usually kept squashed under the heaviest item around spoke up, it’s possibly being in close proximity with River … with _his wife_. Oh, and he loved her. He hadn’t forgotten either of those things. Whether she’d been his bespoke psychopath bursting to kill him after regeneration to seasoned archaeologist, she could never fail to catch him off guard at the most random moment and twist his gut into a balloon animal.

Her eyes had gone dark and soft, and when she leaned into him, when their lips met, he wondered why they hadn’t just jumped straight to the kissing in the first place.

Kissing River was like diving headfirst into a vat of dark chocolate mousse. Not that he’d done that. They’d managed to catch him before he completely tumbled in. But if he had, then kissing her would be like that. All sedate at first, then this sudden rush of heady pleasure as it tumbled beyond chaste to something that he could easily lose himself in for days, weeks, possibly centuries. It’d always been like that — when her older self kissed him in the Stormcage after Utah, when she gave him the rest of her regenerations and the stolen kisses they shared during their encounters while she was in university. Even in the _Teselecta_ , it’d been like that. The sensation had raced through the robot and directly into him, and he really hoped he hadn’t embarrassed himself in front of the crew by physically reacting to it.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, as his hand started to work its way beneath her top, that bloody rational side reminded him that they were in Amy’s home with an older version of River right below them. He stilled for a moment, mentally kicked his rational side to the corner of his mind where his sixth regeneration’s fashion sense was buried beneath a ton of cement, and opened his mouth to deepen the kiss. Instead, River pulled away and cupped his face in her hands.

“I love you,” she whispered, trailing a thumb over his cheek. “I’ve never regretted what I’ve done for you. But, this is for me, my love. You’ll thank me for it one day, I promise.”

And in the minuscule amount of time it took for him to realize what she was doing, catch his breath and prepared to roll her under him to try and stop her, she kissed his forehead and activated the vortex manipulator strapped to her wrist, leaving him to fall facefirst into a mound of pillows with none of his questions answered.

Behind him, the door opened, and he heard a very familiar, throaty laugh.

“I’m really, _really_ annoyed with you right now,” The Doctor said into the pillows.

“No you’re not.” Older River, still dressed in fatigues, leaned against the doorframe and gave her husband an indulgent smile.

“Oh, yes. I am.” He rolled off the bed and stalked up to her in what he thought was his most intimating manner. Well, it intimidated most people. Not this River, who just laughed and patted his shoulder.

“You’re quite cute when you’re trying to be angry with me. Bless.”

“You’re really enjoying this,” the Doctor shot at her. “You think this is all some sort of game to drive me completely mad!”

“Well …,” River’s voice trailed off, and she didn’t bother hiding the smirk.

“River!”

“There’s more to that, my love. You’re wondering why I broke myself out of the Stormcage that night, weren’t you?”

“Yes! Well, I get why you broke yourself out of the Stormcage, because you’re you, and you always have to show off!”

“I learned from the very best, my love.” River smoothed a hand over his bowtie, tracing the loops with her finger. “I was so very tired of being in a cage.”

“And, I was the one who put you there,” he said, miserably, the anger draining from him. It was so easy to be caught up in the guilt at times, especially when it came to her life. “You’ve been in a cage all your life. The Silence, then me.”

“I tried to stop it.” She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. “But, this is not the time for bringing up Area 52, or else we’re going to have a blazing row with my parents hearing every word.”

The Doctor’s mind worked quickly, piecing together younger River’s words with her older self’s actions. Oh, yes, she was still evolving, but there were some things that were always uniquely her. “You’re rebelling, aren’t you? Against the system, against me? That’s why you ran?”

“You stole a TARDIS and took it on a multi-century joyride around the universe! If that’s not the definition of rebellion, then I don’t know what is,” River pointed out. She jabbed a finger in his chest and kicked the door shut behind her. They really didn’t need to be interrupted by Amy and Rory at the moment.

“You don’t understand.” She took his hand, and like her younger self, began tracing the digits. This time, the touch extended to include the long, thin veins running down the back of his hand. “My entire life from the day of conception centered around you. I was conceived in the TARDIS, kidnapped as newborn, raised to kill you. I led a double life in Leadworth where I played with my parents during the day and trained at night. Then I did kill you, and chose to save you with my regnerations. Did you know that doing that was the first thing I’d ever truly done for myself?”

“Yes.” He knew that, had seen the gradual change after the kiss as Melody had started to see whom she would become. Amy had mentioned it later, how Melody had looked stunned, and a bit terrified, after entering the TARDIS for the first time and using it to save her parents from the _Teselecta_. It was why he’d never blamed her, not for any of it. She’d been a child. A weapon programmed to kill him, and it was all his fault. No, he would never blame River for being his bespoke psychopath.

“After that, I decided to study you, to figure out who exactly you were and where I came from. You know why I chose to study archaeology. With everything that happened in Berlin, I’d really no other choice. It was either kill you or choose to love you. I’ll never regret that decision. But, my love, I’ve never had a chance to live a life on my own. That’s what she’s doing now … what I did. She’s trying to figure out who she really is outside of all her ties to you. When she has the answer, she’ll come back. She always will. Just like I do.”

The Doctor glanced toward the window, toward the garden where another woman who’d waited for him had started to live her life on her own at his urging. “I hate waiting,” he admitted, sulking a bit.

“I know, my love. It won’t be long.”

He leaned into her, their foreheads touching, drawing comfort from being able to be with this version of her. This was the River he knew, the one who knew him better than himself. Oh, he loved every version from her, from when she had newly regenerated in a burst of fire and madness to learning to run on her own like a baby fawn in university. That River was still young, so very young, and he was afraid of royally buggering it all up and somehow losing the very thing he was just now realizing he’d longed for.

As if hearing his thoughts, River laid a finger on his lips. Because she couldn’t trust herself otherwise, she kissed his forehead. “Go back to the TARDIS and find a nice suit to wear. Oh, and be sure to bring me back here two weeks from tonight. That’ll be May 6, 2011. Don’t forget, and really, just let me drive. Amy and Rory will be waiting, and don’t pop in before then. They have a surprise for us.”

“Really?” His eyes lit up and he beamed, the worry and self-doubt clearing. “I love surprises. Surprise are very, very cool. But, you’re not driving.”

“I think you’ll love this one, and yes, I’m driving, or else we’ll never make it on time.” She kissed the corner of his mouth, and when he angled his head to turn it into a proper kiss, she tapped his nose and pulled away. “Spoilers.”

“I hate ever teaching you that word.”

“So you remind me. Constantly, my love.” River pulled back her sleeve and checked a familiar-looking gold watch. “This is as long as I can stay.”

It took him a moment to realize where he’d seen the watch before — on his own wrist. “That’s my watch! You didn’t have that on the Byzantium!”

River winked, activated the vortex manipulator on her other wrist and disappeared.


	4. The Great Pyramid of Giza, or River knows what she needs

Workers, forced to toil into the darkest part of the night on the pyramid ordered built by the Pharaoh Khafre wound up talking about the strange sight for weeks. At one point, when the moon was highest in the sky a flash of light appeared atop the nearby pyramid build by Khafre’s father, Khufu. It wasn’t lightning, for there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. They clustered together, wondered if it was a visit from the gods to bless or to curse them. Their bosses said it was a warning for them to keep working on Khafre’s legacy and ordered them back to work. But, as dawn approached and they wearily trudged home, they wondered what that brief flash was.

The flat top of the Great Pyramid of Giza wasn’t very wide, but it was big enough for River. She pulled her jacket close to ward against the chilly Egyptian night. Had it been any other time, she would have been in the pyramid herself, recording and observing history before thieves got a chance to plunder Egypt’s riches. But, not this night. She walked to the edge of the pyramid and dropped gracefully to the ground before removing her rucksack, her legs dangling over the side and resting on the smooth casing stones. She hadn’t brought much with her on this trip. She pulled out a bottle of champagne, a glass, and her diary.

It was the year 2530 B.C.

It was also 365 days since her wedding day. Give or take a few aborted timelines. Then, there was the question of if the wedding had actually counted since it happened in said aborted timeline.

It was the closest thing to Area 52 River could think of. She’d kept meticulous track of time throughout her travels, the wrist watch she’d gotten in Cardiff anchoring her to traditional Earth time circa 21st century throughout the galaxies. Oh, it was silly, she knew that. But, she felt like she had to be here, to mark this day when she had been pushed so far into a corner that she had snapped and rewritten time — all for a ridiculous, crazy, magnificent Time Lord she’d chosen to fallen madly in love with. Who wasn’t even there.

“Well, that was my choice,” River spoke aloud. She opened the diary to where she had recorded the events of Area 52. The moon was bright enough that she didn’t need the flashlight to read. She poured a glass of champagne for herself. She took a deep breath and raised the glass, toasting the stars and wherever he was. “Happy anniversary, my love.”

“Happy anniversary.”

Her head snapped around, and she nearly dropped the glass. The Doctor stood inches from her, leaning against the closed door of the TARDIS and wearing that bloody Stetson. He tipped back the rim and grinned. “Hi, honey, I’m home.”

“What sort of time do you call this?” The familiar words burst out of her before she realize she spoke them.

“Well, if I seem to recall correctly, tonight’s our first anniversary. Unless I overshot it. Tend to do that. Not,” he quickly interjected, “because I’m a bad driver. But, I did have a little help getting here tonight.”

The corner of River’s mouth quirked, but she managed not to bust out laughing.

The Doctor dropped to the ground next to her and helped himself to her glass of champagne.

“You hate that stuff,” she said as he sniffed at the glass.

“Well, it’s not a proper anniversary without a toast.”

“It’s not a proper toast without two glasses.” River dug in her rucksack and unearthed a second glass. She flushed a bit at his raised eyebrow. “I was kind of hoping I wouldn’t be alone.”

He didn’t say anything, but tipped his glass so half the champagne in his glass poured into hers. “In some cultures, this is considered a marriage ritual,” he commented.

“Probably derived from the Shinto tradition of a couple drinking three sips each from three cups of sake poured by a miko.”

“Clever girl.” The Doctor raised his glass, and River clinked hers with it. They tossed back the champagne, and he managed not to spit it all back out. He did cough a couple of times. “Well,” he rasped, “I think that took care of us getting married on six planets and an couple of minor asteroids.”

“When are you?” He looked much older than the Doctor she’d seen at Amy and Rory’s months earlier. She narrowed her eyes a bit.

“Oh, a bit further in my timeline. Quite a bit further. Actually, I’m doubling back a bit as a special request.” He took her hand, absently tracing the veins as she’d done with the younger version of himself. “But, it’s still our anniversary for me. You haven’t done Demon’s Run yet, have you?”

“No, that’s a poem.”

His eyes turned downcast. “Is it now?”

She turned her palm up so she could lace her fingers with his. “So, why this version of you?”

“Well, apparently, it’s needed. A lot like when the older version of yourself spoke to me at Amy and Rory’s. And, no, I won’t tell you what she said.” He tapped her nose.

“I know, spoilers.” River fidgeted with the glass with her free hand, twisting the stem in her suddenly restless fingers. “Where is he now? The younger you?”

“Oh, if I remember right, moping on the TARDIS. You really should do something about that.”

“I will.” And because he was so much older, because he’d already lived through this, she found herself squeezing his hand, hard. “I just … It’s been an amazing year. I’ve done so much. Worked for Torchwood for those few months. Unearthed an ancient civilization and stopped a plague from destroying a race. I held a diamond that was a condensed galaxy and released it to create something new in the universe. I flirted with the real Count Dracula briefly.”

“Good old Vlad! How’s he doing?”

“Still out for your blood. Mine too, actually. Must have done it when I was older.”

“Spoilers.” But they both shuddered at the senseless bloodshed caused by Vlad Tepes, prince of Wallachia.

“I did it all on my own, my love. Without you. I made and rewrote history, and it was wonderful, to see who I was without the Doctor.” River set the glass aside before she could drop it. A shattered 21st century wine glass would be a bit hard to explain. “But, in the end, I was running from myself. From us.”

“I understand.” And he did, she realized. He understood all of it, why she had run, why she had gone on the quest to find herself.

“The more time passed, the more I wondered if what I did a year ago was wrong.”

“It was the only thing you could have done, River.”

“No. Maybe. I don’t know. I deserve to be in the Stormcage …”

“No, you don’t.” The words burst out of him, and he grabbed her arms. “You do _not_ belong in there!”

“Yes, I do!” Tears threatened, and it took every ounce of willpower to hold them back and keep her eyes locked on his. “I still killed you. I relived those moments every single night of the past year, deconstructing them, trying to figure out what I could have done differently to save us all. They used me, and I want to kill every single damn one of them for doing that, and yet there was nothing else I could do. I blame myself, but if we did it all over again, I wouldn’t change a single thing.”

“Yet,” the Doctor said with a bit of wonder, “you don’t blame me.”

“Of course I do for some of it, idiot face,” River said with a hint of venom. The Doctor grinned at the use of her mother’s term for when she was exasperated with both himself and Rory. “If you’d bothered to event hint at what was going on, we wouldn’t have landed in that mess in the first place. Then again, look at me.” She spread her arms out wide. “Your bespoke psychopath, you called me in Berlin. I wouldn’t trust me. No wonder you never hinted you were in the _Teselecta_.”

“It wasn’t that. It was never that.” He took her hands, cursing himself under his breath for having ever been obtuse enough to have not have some sort of master plan outlined with River from the very beginning. But, time was time, and even the _Teselecta_ had been a last-minute option. “Rule #2 … oh, wait, already have one of those. Well, rule #3 … oh, have that too. Fine, rule #4. Always trust River Song.”

She rolled her eyes. “Now, you’re just making that up. I know very well what rule #1 is. Rule #1a, that is. Do you realize how often you change those?”

“You’ve been keeping track!” the Doctor chirped, delighted.

She rolled her eyes. “Sweetie, rule #27.”

“This is serious!” He sobered a bit. “If I didn’t trust you, you wouldn’t be one of only two people in the universe who knows I’m still alive … well, other than Amy and Rory. And a few others. But, spoilers. Humor an old man, River.” He took off his Stetson and plopped it on her curls. “Funny,” he murmured, “we’ve been out here at least 10 minutes, and you haven’t shot my hat off. Must not have learned that yet.”

“Well …” River tilted the rim back and grinned at him. “It does look better on me.”

“Oh, come now, I look smashing in a Stetson. And, you should really see me in a fez. When you do, you’ll think fezzes are very cool.”

“If I ever see you wearing a fez, I’m liable to shoot it off you.”

“Oi!”

She laughed now, her hand resting on his leg. Their knees knocked together. “I’m so sorry,” she said. “I’ll tell your younger self that too.”

“I think he’ll tell you the same thing, about so many things, River.” He slipped an arm around her waist, pulling her to him.

She closed her eyes, breathed in his scent to steady herself. The vortex, cinnamon, and something spicy yet soothing at the same time. There was a great deal of studies looking into the anthropological links on scents and how they played into sexual attraction among different species. She had to admit, there was probably something to those studies. All she wanted to do was throw her arms around his neck, bury her face in his shoulder and just smell him.

But this Doctor wasn't quite hers. Oh, he was in one sense, but not in another. She had a suspicious feeling she'd be planning this game many, many times in her life. “One thing I want to know … was it real? The hand-fasting. Are we married?”

“That’s between him and you.”

It was a fair answer. Probably the only answer the older Doctor could give her. She tilted her head, nearly knocking the Stetson off. “You told me, before I broke time, that you forgave me for everything. But, you didn’t know what was about to happen, what I was planning to do. How could you have forgiven me for nearly ending time?”

“Well, it really wouldn’t mean much if it was otherwise, eh?” He cupped her cheek in his hand, and she leaned into the touch. “Just because you threw us all into an aborted timeline doesn’t mean I still don’t forgive you for everything. Absolutely. Completely. Always.”

Tears streamed down her cheeks, and he wiped them away with his thumb before pulling her into a hug that she didn’t realize how badly she needed. For the first time, she turned her head into the crook of his shoulder and cried. She cried for Amy and Rory, for her lost childhood, for the little girl who had starved to death on the streets of New York. She cried for Mels, for the endless training and brainwashing. She cried for Berlin, the aborted timeline, for them. She knew she would have to go back to the Stormcage, because it was the right thing to do. Not because she killed him, but because she nearly killed them all. It would be her self-imposed penance, her choice.

And through it all, he didn’t say a word. He just rocked her and let her cry it out. After a few minutes, she pulled back, scrubbing her eyes with the heels of her hands. “I don’t think I’ve cried like that … well, ever.”

“I won’t tell if you won’t, Dr. Song.”

They laughed together. “Well, considering it’s nearly dawn and there’s a good 18 hours left in the day, I suppose I need to go spend the rest of our anniversary with you.” River kissed him, a quick, gentle peck on the corner of his mouth when she wanted to do so much more. “Thank you, my love. And, thank my older self as well.”

“How did you …”

“Oh, my love. Who else knew exactly when and where to find me? Face it, your driving skills really are rubbish.”

“They are not!” The Doctor rolled to his feet, jabbing a finger at her.

River shook her head and stood, programming her vortex manipulator. “I better run. You can clean up the mess. I’m keeping the Stetson.” She grabbed her diary, tilted the Stetson brim at him in a salute, and disappeared.

The Doctor grumbled and yanked the TARDIS door open. “I hope you’re happy!” he yelled inside. “You stole my hat!”

“Oh, I am, my love. And, you can have your Stetson back as soon as you’ve cleaned up those glasses.”

“I’m your husband, not some type of maid. You can come clean up your own glasses since you left them here in the first pl …” The Doctor’s voice trailed off as his wife strolled into the console room wearing his Stetson and nothing else. “Right. Glasses! Cleaning! Coming right up!” He grabbed everything, nearly tripping in his haste to get back in the TARDIS and to properly celebrate his 64th wedding anniversary.


	5. The TARDIS, or a dose of Vitameatavegamin

There was nothing else to do but wait. Older River, being completely herself and that meant nearly impossible to read, hadn’t left him with any clues of her younger counterpart’s whereabouts. It left him, the Doctor realized, without a specific goal for the first time in a very, very long time.

As soon as he regenerated, the Doctor had crash-landed in Amelia Pond’s backyard. The cracks in time immediately garnered his attention, then all the domestics with being involved in Amy and Rory’s lives. It was always much easier to decide what to do when you had the universe to show off to someone. Then there came Utah and following the footsteps his older self had laid out for him. Amy’s surprise pregnancy, then the birth of little Melody. Trying to save Melody. Seeing her turn into River. Trying to puzzle out the meaning behind April 22, 2011, then find out why he was slated to die. Even after sending Amy and Rory home, there was stuff to do. Good-byes to make, worlds to save, and he’d even managed to follow River through her time in university.

Officially, he was a dead man. Oh, sure, he had any number of former companions that would be thrilled to see him and would be willing to keep his secret. There was always worlds to visit, people to save, things to look at.

But, he wanted to do it with her. With a sigh, the Doctor pulled himself away from the console and headed beneath to see if there was anything he could repair. It was better than moping. Because he wasn’t moping. He was just thinking, and thinking was always a good thing. There were lots of great thinkers, he thought as he located some wires that looked frayed. He quickly bounced up the stairs and plugged in coordinates for a planet known for having bits of random ship parts available. He knew quite a few of them. Albert Einstein, Issac Newton … all men needed a good think, and he most certainly wasn’t moping because River was off having a good time without him. So, there.

 _Eight hours later …_

The TARDIS was driving him insane.

She had to be, the Doctor decided as he hammered at a section under the console again, because for the past four hours, he’d heard nothing but the faint sounds of early ‘50s American television coming from somewhere off the console room. He heard it when he’d gotten back on the TARDIS after helping a lost family of Raxaians find their way back to their mothership and had originally thought it was crossed radio signals from the ship. But, once he’d taken the TARDIS into the vortex, it wouldn’t stop.

It happened like clockwork. Every 30 minutes or so, he’d hear the faint strains of the “I Love Lucy” opening. Oh, there was nothing wrong with that, he enjoyed it and had popped back a few times to watch tapings in previous incarnations. He could hear someone laughing from time to time. Someone who sounded suspiciously like River. But, it couldn’t be because she was definitely not on the TARDIS. No, they were still embroiled in the married version of a Mexican standoff. Or, was it part marriage? He frowned, dropping the hammer next to the swing seat and swaying absently for a moment. Well, the legality of it was a bit debatable. He’d married her, but she married a giant robot. He tugged at his bowtie a bit. That really wasn’t exactly a proper marriage even though they’d gotten married at literally every point in history at the same time.

The TARDIS dimmed her lights suddenly, and the Doctor found himself dumped face-first out of the swing seat.

“What? You too?” He flipped onto his back. “Look, I’ll fix it, all right? As soon as she sees reason.”

The TARDIS lights flickered.

“No, I’m convinced I’m the one who has any logic on this ship.” He rolled to his feet, stomping up the stairs so he could jab his finger at the console. “Might I remind you whose fault it was that we got into this situation to begin with? I didn’t discharge my weapons and stop time.”

A spring popped loose from the console and struck the Doctor in the head.

“Fine, fine, so I angered them into stealing her as a baby and brainwashing her to begin with. I get that. Just because it’s her fault doesn’t mean I actually blame her!” He rubbed the growing knot on his forehead. “Oh, I know, I yelled all that rubbish because I expected her to know.” He let out a self-depreciating laugh. “So used to her knowing everything, I keep forgetting she’s young.”

The TARDIS lights switched to a soothing yellow, and he found himself absently stroking the console. No. No, he was wrong. He knew she’d been young. Not all that removed from Berlin. Just hours from having obtained her doctorate, which he had observed from the shadows with hearts so full of pride that he hadn’t been able to stop grinning or twirling in his corner. He’d suspected then. In the 200 years that he spent away from the Ponds, he’d contributed to what had happened. He found himself going to Luna University again and again, to get to know the younger River and see her get that first honest-to-goodness crush on him. He’d seen it before, in Rose Tyler, in Martha Jones. But, because it was River, he hadn’t ignored it like with Martha. It’d been a lot like with Rose, just with more guns. It’d been brilliant to see the development of the woman River had become in his past … but, she was right. Her older self, that is. The post- _Byzantium_ self that had actually talked to him in Leadworth. Everything that she was, that she would be, needed to be developed without him.

The Doctor let himself hang his head for a moment, but not for long because he refused to give into the Lonely God complex that had plagued his tenth incarnation. No, he would figure out what that infernal noise was, then go on a nice trip. Maybe scoop up the Ponds and treat them to a vacation. He missed Amy and Rory. He really missed River.

And maybe … No, not maybe. He needed her. She’d shown him he could and would feel again after the loss of Rose. Not only did he feel again, but he felt more.

No one had forced him to marry her.

He honestly wanted it.

And if everything happened again, he wouldn’t change a thing about their time together.

With a rueful smile, the Doctor put the errant spring back on the console, turned and spotted a wood-paneled door where the corridor once was. Flicking a considering glance at the TARDIS console, he bounded to the doors and quietly eased one of them open.

The TARDIS had shifted one of the studies they used for watching television next to the console room. A 64-inch plasma screen stretched across one wall with an assortment of video players from different eras and planets arranged below. Squashy chairs were scattered across the room. On the screen, Lucy Ricardo was cutting up a mink coat as Ricky sprang up out of his chair, scooping up the pieces and imploring Lucy to stop.

On the sofa across the room from the screen sat River, a bowl of popcorn in her lap and laughing so hard she was crying.

The Doctor looked at River, then at the TV, then back at River. “What?” he managed.

Holding her hand over her mouth as she choked back her laughter, River paused the replay, freezing the screen at the end of the scene as Ricky collapsed to the floor in horror. “Hello, sweetie,” she managed and offered the bowl.

“You’re on the TARDIS,” he sputtered

“Yes, unless this room has been jettisoned, and really she wouldn’t do that to me.”

He warily approached her, jabbing his finger at her. “How did you get on the TARDIS?”

River rolled her eyes. “Like every other person, my love. Through the front door.”

“But, I never saw you!”

“That’s because you weren’t in here. I’ve been in here for more than four hours. It’s my home too, I don’t always need to wait for you to roll out the welcome mat.”

“When did I see you last?” he demanded, ridiculously pleased that River called the TARDIS her home.

She set aside the popcorn. “It all depends. Spoilers. Though, I believe the answer you’re looking for in this case is in my bedroom at Amy and Rory’s while my older self was telling them you were alive. It’s been a year since Area 52 and Lake Silencio.”

“Oh.” He awkwardly shuffled from foot to foot, looking at everywhere but her. A year since Lake Silencio, which meant technically it was their wedding anniversary. If she counted it as that. “Did you find what you were looking for?”

“Yes. Would you like to join me?” She picked up the popcorn again and patted the seat next to her. “I’m not going anywhere, my love.”

And he realized in that moment that she really wasn’t going anywhere. This River smiling at him was definitely an older woman. Not too much older, but she appeared at peace with herself. She’d found something, he thought, with pride. He’d done his best to keep track of her movements, but that had been fairly hard, even for him. Oh, he’d seen the galaxy she helped create, had beamed with pride when he’d discovered that she’d saved an entire civilization from a nasty plague. It felt like everywhere he’d gone in the past year had been to witness the effects of her actions, both wonderful and questionable. Oh, she had about approximately 14 death threats and 297 warrants out for her arrest just in the Milky Way, but who was really counting? He wasn’t.

He plopped next to her, arranging gangly limbs so he was comfortable on the sofa. “So, why _I Love Lucy_?”

“Why not? It’s still one of the most famous television programs in the galaxy. Even 4,000 years later, it’s still being talked about and laughed over. It’s been translated into approximately 2,387 languages including various sub-dialects. And, before today, I’ve never seen it.”

The Doctor gawked at her. “No! Everyone’s seen this!”

River laughed a bit ruefully and shook her head. “My childhood regime didn’t exactly leave much room for watching television, my love. When I did, it was usually with Amy and Rory. While iTV did pick it up, we weren’t always interested in that.”

“So, why now?”

“Why not? Everyone does something frivolous now and again, including me. Besides, I was hoping I wouldn’t watch the majority of these alone.”

“Watch them? Let’s go live them!” The Doctor bounded to his feet again. He grabbed her hands. “1951, the fledgling General Service Studios before Desilu was founded! Let’s go watch history be created! We’ll be part of the studio audience! Oooh, we can even be extras!”

“You mean change television history.” River tugged on the Doctor’s arm until he had no choice but to collapse into his seat again. “My love, let me at least watch the original before we go altering it.”

He pouted. “You’re not letting me impress you!”

“You have years to impress me. Now, we’re either watching this, or you can go build cabinets with your sonic.” River pulled the popcorn bowl back into her lap and resumed the DVD.

“That’s really rude!” The Doctor pulled back his jacket. “She didn’t really mean that,” he address the screwdriver in the inner pocket. “She’s just jealous.”

River made a shushing motion, and in retaliation, he stole her popcorn.

For the next few hours, they talked and laughed, sharing bits of television trivia and laughing until they cried at Lucy’s antics. They held an impromptu contest to see who could recite the Vitameatavegamin commercial correctly first (the Doctor won) and wanted to recreate the packaging candy scene (the TARDIS refused to generate that room). It was the first time in their linear time since River had been in university that they had spent any sort of time together without having to save anyone or fix a problem — and secretly they both loved it.

And it happened, in that wonderful way of things when two people are in love. One moment, they’re laughing together, and the next they’re kissing — deep, searching kisses with the popcorn bowl knocked to the floor as they toppled to the sofa and started wrestling with each other’s clothes.

“You know,” she said in-between kisses as she yanked his bowtie off and draped it around her own neck, “if it counts for you, it’s our first anniversary.”

“Really,” he countered as he discovered — much to his delight — that her bra clasped in the front, “it’s our wedding night since you broke out of the Stormcage before I could do anything about it.”

Her hand stilled, and she remembered the conversation with his older self. “Does it count for you? The aborted timeline?”

“Well, it’s a bit of a mess really. You did kind of marry a robot rather than me.”

“Trust me, you managed not to taste metallic at all.”

“But, it still counted.”

Her eyes widened with shock. “It did?”

“Yes. _Wife._ ” He pressed his forehead to hers, managing to calm his racing heart enough to actually think and do this right, because really his future depended greatly on this. OK, so did everyone else’s depending on the number of times River had actually saved all of them from certain doom, but really, at the moment, he was selfish enough to admit that his own happiness — for the first time in a very long time — was paramount. “Granted, we’ll need to do it again. Shotgun ceremony and all, aborted timeline, few things I left out, one thing I really do need to tell you … but yes, it counted.”

“Then, by all means, my love,” she stroked his hair affectionately, and didn’t bother hiding the tears. She would later insist that so many of them on a single day were an aberration. “Let’s go get remarried. I believe you owe me a wedding night.”

He beamed. “And a dance. I always dance at weddings.”

“Really?”

“Would I lie to you about something as important as that, Dr. Song?” He waggled his eyebrows. “How does Hollywood, 1951, sound?”

“Any warrants out of either of us then?”

“Nope!”

“Then, 1951 it is.” She rolled out from under him and laughed when her bra suddenly dropped to the ground. She scooped it up and tugged his hand.

It took them a bit longer to make it back to the console room. Every few feet, they found themselves pushing the other up against a hard surface and eagerly exploring each other’s bodies before finally disengaging long enough so River could dash into the wardrobe and find an appropriate dress. Whistling under his breath, happier than he can remember being in years, the Doctor dashed around the console, inputting the coordinates and imploring the TARDIS to please not land them in a war zone or famine or infestation or hostile planet. “Do it for River, yeah?” he said, patting the console before throwing the last switch. With a wheeze of the brakes, the TARDIS settled.

River strolled out of the wardrobe, and he nearly swallowed his tongue. She’d dressed impeccably for the year, with a slim ivory suit that clung to every curve, stopping right below her knee. The matching jacket clung to her like a second skin, flaring out at the hips. She wore bold, red lipstick and managed to style her curls in the same manner he’d seen when she’d sought him out to go after the Weeping Angels, years in her future. She was tucking a small revolver and a tube of lipstick into the clutch. After not quite working the revolver in there, she dipped a hand in his jacket pocket and helped herself to his sonic.

“We’re here?” she asked, the excitement in her voice betraying the serene look on her face.

“Oh? Oh, yes!” The Doctor dashed to the door as River fiddled with the clutch, enlarging the interior. Satisfied, she tucked her weapons away and closed the bag.

The Doctor pulled the door open, got one look at where they landed, then immediately slammed the door shut. “That’s not 1951.”

“No?” River strolled to the door. “Did you do an environment check?”

The Doctor immediately moved to bar her from going out. “Yes! Yes, I just did an environment check! It was called opening the door.”

“Really?” River’s eyes narrowed with suspicion. “Doctor, where are we?”

Suddenly, a loud banging sounded on the door. The Doctor flinched.

“Doctor!” Amy’s voice echoed through the wood. “I know you’re in there! You better have my daughter with you!”

“Amy?” River reached past the the Doctor to open the door, but the Doctor quickly plastered himself against the wood.

“We really should do an environment check.”

She rolled her eyes. “You already opened the door.”

“Doctor!” Amy shouted.

“River!” The Doctor begged. “Please, if this isn’t the right time …”

With a sigh, River marched back to the console and pulled the monitor toward her, muttering under her breath that the damage was already done to begin with. “Leadworth, May 6, 2011, in my mother’s back garden.”

“Oh. _Oh!_ ” Relieved, the Doctor yanked the door open to reveal a furious Amy Pond. “Amelia Pond!” He caught Amy in a hug before she could do anything else. “Rory the Roman! I see you back there! Belated permission, sorry about that. Well, anyhow. I’ll be just a tic.” He let Amy go, slammed the door in her face and raced past a confused River into the wardrobe.

“Doctor, what are you …”

The door slammed open, and Amy stomped in. “Just where does he think he’s … River!”

“Amy!” River dashed around the console, and the two women embraced. “Or, do you prefer mum?”

“In this crowd I have outside, best just be the first.” Amy eyed her critically. “You look like you’re the right one. The one we left behind at Area 52, yeah?

River pulled back. “Yes, that’s when we last actually spoke. Crowd? What have you done?”

“Oh, Rory and I had an idea. You helped. Well, your older self. I’m sure it’s some sort of time loop thing, making sure this happened, but it really is a good idea. I think your older self was suppose to help get him here on time.” Amy eyed River critically. “You look like you belong on the set of _I Love Lucy._ ”

“That’s where we were first headed.” And to get married again, she silently added.

“You look smashing.” Amy grasped River’s elbow and steered her toward the wardrobe. “You’ll do. But, you can still help me out. I love the TARDIS’ outfits, and I really want something nice to wear tonight.”

“Just what’s going on?”

“It’s a surprise. You’ll love it.”


	6. Leadworth Again, or What the Cracks Actually Fixed

When River had sought Amy out in the alternate timeline, they hadn’t just been mother and daughter, but comrades in arms trying to figure out a way to avert the events of Lake Silencio and keep the Doctor alive.

Now, as they went through the massive TARDIS wardrobe, it was like the friends they had been growing up. Mels and Amy, tearing through the shops as Amy tried on one outfit after another.

“Just without the shoplifting,” Amy said, pulling a full-skirted evening gown off a rack, frowning and putting it back.

“Practice,” River said as she rifled through some clothes as well, tugging aside some for later and wondering what adjustments she’d need to do in her Stormcage cell to enlarge the wardrobe. It was entirely too small. “I had to hone my skills somewhere.”

“Great. Do you realize how much money you owe me and Rory for all the times we bailed you out?”

River swooped by with a green parachute-skirted dress and a leather utility belt in hand, greatly favoring the belt. She had a feeling it would be quite useful. She kissed Amy’s cheek. “Love you, Mummy dearest.”

“Now, you’re just being cheeky,” Amy pulled out a pleated dress she admired on a previous trip through the TARDIS wardrobe. She held it up in front of her. “This one?”

“That one. You’ll look lovely for the party.”

Amy grumbled under her breath and started changing. “It was suppose to be a surprise.”

“The Doctor didn’t close the door that fast. I saw the decorations.” River rummaged through a small box and held up thin, beaten gold earrings in the shape of a pyramid. “Try these.” She held them against Amy’s ear as the women admired the look in the mirror.

“Perfect. Do up the back?” Amy turned and hooked in the earrings while River buttoned the dress.

“It still feels weird.” Amy swept her hair back and accepted a pair of strappy sandals River held out to her. She tilted her head to the side. “You’re not questioning the fact that we know the Doctor’s alive.”

“Oh, I saw. Upstairs window. Lovely room. Mind if I come for a stay?”

“It’s yours. Of course! I thought someone had been there. You … well, older you … she stayed the night. We heard her talking to someone, thought it was the Doctor, but she was alone.”

“He was there too. We were having a little marital discussion.”

“That’s between you and him.” Amy picked up a brush, pulled it through her hair a few times and shuddered. “I still can’t quite believe I’m his mother-in-law. I mean, yeah, rooted for you two before we had any idea who you were because you’ve always been,” she wildly gesticulated with her hands, then dropped the brush on a table, “Mrs. Doctor. You called and he’d come running even if he didn’t want to, and …”

“Spoilers,” River cautioned, and Amy bit her lip. “Sorry,” Amy murmured. She yanked out an iPhone and launched an app.

“Texting?”

“Recording. You and the Doctor can do paper, I’ll do digital.”

River laughed, and they hooked arms, walking out of the wardrobe together to see the Doctor dressed in the tuxedo he’d worn to Amy and Rory’s wedding.

“Well, well, look at you.” River’s gaze slowly raked the Doctor’s frame, and he blushed, quickly shifting behind console. “He’s good enough to eat.”

“Don’t ask him to dance. He’s just rubbish.”

“Amelia Pond!” he exclaimed with a half-laugh.

“Well, you are!” Amy pulled away from River, walking over to him. She straightened his lapels and fixed his bowtie, pinning him with a knowing look. “You slammed the door in my face, Raggedy Man.”

“Had to make sure it was you. You know, a you that knew, not a you prior to that.”

“Doesn’t give you an excuse to slam the door in your best friend’s face, yeah?”

“Fat lot of good that did, you big ginge. You and your daughter have taken over the TARDIS. Might as well sign her over to you.”

“You know what they say about in-laws.” With a half-laugh, half-sob, Amy threw her arms around the Doctor’s neck. “I’ve missed you so much.”

He made shushing noises, rocking her back and forth. “I’m fine, my brave Amelia. Look at you, all grown up. And selling perfume!”

“Selling?” Amy pulled back, an eyebrow arched high. River snickered behind her hand.

“Oh no.” The Doctor looked from Amy to River then back again. “What have you been doing? I saw the ads! Petrichor! Brilliant name, Petrichor. One of the telepathic passcodes in the TARDIS, you really are brilliant.”

“She’s not just marketing the perfume,” River spoke up.

“I came up with the formula.” Amy gestured to River. “River helped.”

“What?” His head snapped back and forth between the two women. “When … how?”

“Oh, my love. You weren’t there for every step of university. I had to do something on my summer holidays now, didn’t I?”

“What I did on my summer vacation, hopped back in time and helped my mother create a perfume?” he asked.

She flashed a grin at him. “I got an ‘A’ on the assignment.”

“It was brilliant, really. The one thing River … well, Mels, was good at in school was science. She helped create the formula. We worked on a business plan together, then went into business. It’s kept me busy.”

“Ponds!” The Doctor caught up both of them in fierce embrace. “Brilliant, brilliant Ponds! Every single one of you!”

“Including Rory!” Amy reminded him.

“Especially Rory the Roman! He must be in on this!” The Doctor bounded to the door and was out before the women could say a word in response.

“Does he have any idea?” River asked.

“Not a clue. I think you’ll be surprised too.” Amy tugged River toward the door.

They didn’t manage to get very far, for the Doctor had halted in the doorway. He was so quiet, so still that Amy and River exchanged worried looks.

“Doctor?”

“Sweetie?”

“Amy.” His voice was a raspy whisper. “Why?”

“Well, you told River she couldn’t tell anyone, but of course obviously you gave her permission at some point to tell me.” Amy grinned at River. “While she made it quite clear that she wouldn’t be talking, well, I feel that I’m family and have privileges.”

“What did you do?” River asked.

“Only what you suggested we do. Well, future you. You know, if I think about this too much, it’s going to give me a massive migraine.”

Because she was wearing heels, River could see over the Doctor’s shoulder. Amy and Rory really did have a nice garden, and it was entirely lit with lantern lights, roped from tree to tree and bathing the garden with a soft glow. She saw Rory standing near the grill next to a black man with close-cropped hair, laughing as they debated over the best way to cook burgers. The man turned, and River sucked in a breath, recognizing him from her thesis files. Part of the reason she’d spent a summer with Amy and Rory was to ferret out his former companions to hear their perspective on him.

“Mickey Smith,” she said, shocked. “That’s Mickey Smith.”

She matched faces she knew with the files she’d accumulated. She’d only spoken with a precious few, such as Sarah Jane Smith and her adopted son, Luke. River spotted her at a table, looking extremely thin, pale and fragile. Luke hovered over Sarah Jane’s shoulder like a sentry and, sitting next to her, was Jack Harkness. Next to them was Dr. Martha Jones. Smith-Jones, she quickly corrected herself. Martha looked to be checking over Sarah Jane herself and was quietly murmuring to her. It was a small group, but they were loyal to him. Every one of them would go go to their graves before revealing that the Doctor wasn’t dead.

They weren’t just companions, but they were true friends, letting out a cheer when they saw him alive and well. There was one thing that River hadn’t been able to really see while she was doing her thesis, and that was seeing the Doctor interact with people he knew well outside of Amy, Rory, and Jack. But his huge grin spoke volumes, and the way they flocked around him showed their equal devotion. He exchanged high-fives with Mickey, avoided a kiss from Jack (he kissed River instead, which made the Doctor fume just a bit), hugged Martha and Sarah Jane, the latter very gently.

Amy sidled over to Rory as he flipped burgers. “Are they not here yet?” she murmured.

“Called right before you came out. Ran into traffic. Accident on the M4 on the way. Should be here within the next few minutes.”

“I don’t know how long I can keep them stalling.”

“Well, who else can we use?” Amy pulled out her phone, quickly tapping through the app where she kept notes. “We’re doing this properly. Can’t be either of us. Maybe Sarah Jane? Jack? Martha?”

“Look, I don’t want to be the one having to tell her that the Doctor got impatient, figured this out, then avoided it all and …” Rory breathed a sigh of relief as he saw headlights pull over in front of the house next door. “That must be them. I’ll go let them around.”

In a quiet corner of the garden, where Amy had set up a card table with a few chairs scattered around it, River managed to corner Jack.

“Where’s Ianto?” she asked, looking about. “And Gwen?”

“I imagine Gwen’s fine,” Jack said with a sad smile. “Ianto …” He swallowed and found her hand, squeezing hard.

He didn’t have to say it. “When?” she asked quietly.

“Killed by the 456 two years ago.” At River’s sudden gasp, he raised an eyebrow. “You’ve heard of them.”

“A time or two. Jack …”

“Let’s just not talk about it. This is a party, remember?” He flashed her a winning smile that she knew held years and years of pain. He glanced at the other table, where the Doctor was talking animately with Sarah Jane and Martha, waving his arms in the air as they laughed.

“You know,” River commented, “my files on Sarah Jane Smith said …”

Jack held a finger to his lips. “Yeah. But, he doesn’t know that, does he.”

“No.” But, she suspected from the sadness in his eyes as he hugged her that he knew. “Does she?”

“She guessed. She agreed to the time travel. Luke got the invitation after the funeral and found me. We agreed to go to an earlier point in her timeline, but not too much earlier. She already knew she had cancer, but since the Doctor doesn’t know, it’s not a fixed point yet. The trip … it took a lot out of her.”

“Traveling by vortex manipulator is hell, even on a healthy person, Jack.”

“She wanted to do this, even if it proved to be fatal,” Jack insisted. “I can’t go get Ianto, and the Doctor knows the Brig is dead.” He dragged a hand through his hair. “Hell, I know this is a risky move, but she’s dying to begin with. It won’t change her future, or his, to have her here now. Out of everyone, she wants him to be happy. Just … don’t take him to April 19, 2011, OK?”

“I think in general, we should just avoid April 2011,” River replied.

“Doctor!”

A spry older man came through the gate ahead of Rory, waving enthusiastically and moving much faster than a man of his years normally would.

“Wilf!” The Doctor’s eyes lit up and he stood just as Wilf reached him, catching him up in a bear hug. “Wilfred Mott, look at you!”

“Sorry we’re late! Ran into traffic on the 4. Sylvia’s hanging up the coats.” Wilfred rocked and forth on his feet, nearly bouncing in place.

“River!” The Doctor waved his hands excitedly over his head, then pointed down at Wilf.

“Be sure to have that anti-bruising cream the TARDIS keeps around handy,” Jack murmured as he and River joined the Doctor.

“Why?”

“You’ll find out.” The sadness was gone now, and Jack gave her a teasing grin. “Your parents really are something, I’ll say that. It’s good to know where you got it from. Did you know you and your mother share a mean right hook? And a thing for handcuffs? You’ll have to introduce me to your future sister.”

“I don’t think Amy and Rory are quite over having one vortex-influenced child yet. Give them a bit. And what if I have a brother?”

“Well, you better introduce me to him, too.”

Wilfred Mott turned out to be one of the loveliest people River had ever met. He hugged her like she was a long-lost relative, and it was clear he had spoken with Amy and Rory at some point. Because she knew what happened to Donna Noble, she hadn’t sought him out for her thesis. She knew he had been there shortly before the Doctor had regenerated into his current self and suspected he had something to do with it. But thanks to the metacrisis, even she knew not to venture too near the Nobles. Not until she came up with a solution on how to save her.

“What’ve you been up to?” The Doctor asked as Wilf shoved a huge silver hatbox in his hands.

“Oh, a bit of this and that. Got in a trip to France. Tried to bike along the coast, but wouldn’t cooperate with the knees.”

His eyes met River’s briefly before he focused back on Wilfred. He had to ask. “Donna? How is she?”

Wilfred raised an eyebrow, then nodded at something over the Doctor’s shoulder. His eyes widened and he slowly turned to see Donna Noble, auburn hair streaming about her. His face was caught halfway between delight and absolute horror. “Donna?” he squeaked.

“Oi, spaceman,” Donna replied.

Then, she promptly socked him.

——

“That hurt!” The Doctor moaned as Martha inspected his eye and applied the cream that River had ducked into the TARDIS to find. He waved a finger at River and Amy. “And you! You two should be hovering over me!”

“Why?” Amy asked, tapping her foot.

“I think you deserve it, my love.”

“Isn’t that the truth,” Martha muttered under her breath.

He promptly ignored both of them, choosing instead to gesticulate at Donna and try to get up from where he was still sprawled on the ground. River and Martha promptly shoved him back down. “You should be dead!” he sputtered as Martha finished applying the cream.

“Oi! I think not!” Donna promptly smacked the Doctor upside the head.

“Ow! River!”

“Oh, don’t go crying to her, you floppy-haired, big-eared Dumbo.”

“Oi, I am not Dumbo!” He finally shoved Martha away and rolled to his feet. “Regardless, you should be dead. You can’t remember.”

“Well, I did, no thanks to you, sunshine.” Donna threw herself on the bench near him. “It just … happened.”

“It didn’t just happen. Nothing just happens!”

“Well, it did for me! June 26, 2010. All sort of weird going on that day. Was suppose to meet Neyrs for coffee, but had this headache. Dropped off, woke up and remembered everything.

“June 26, 2010.” The Doctor’s gaze met Amy and Rory’s and they silently nodded.

“What happened?” River asked.

“Spoilers,” they all replied.

“Might have known.” River looped her arm through Wilf’s. “Mind escorting me over to the punch? I know when to get myself out of earshot.”

“Spoilers? What’re they going on about?” Wilf asked as he led her away from the group.

“It’s a long story.”

Donna stared after them. “Why aren’t you …”

“Younger version of her,” the Doctor explained. “Older version was there. Haven’t happened for her yet.”

“No wonder she has that diary. I can’t even keep it straight.”

“Wait, so back to Donna,” Amy said, “we guessed it had something to do with the cracks? She told us about the meta-crisis.”

“Yes. Oh. Oh, it’s brilliant! When the universe rebooted and took me out of time, it reversed the memory block on Donna. Not just that, but it reversed the meta-crisis! When you remembered me, Amy, you didn’t know the exact circumstances of what happened, but you knew Donna traveled with me because you saw her in the TARDIS databanks. You brought me back, but it didn’t bring back the meta-crisis.”

“So, that’s why I remember?” Donna frowned. “What about the other you? What about Rose?”

And he stilled, then pushed the guilt away. He reached for Donna’s forehead, and she flinched. “I promise, I’m not going to do anything,” he murmured, then lightly pressed his fingertips to her temple. “You’re human,” he said after a moment. “Completely human. No Time Lord left.”

“Then Rose and him …”

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “Amy didn’t know about him. He could be full Time Lord. He could be all human. He could simply be gone, but I highly doubt it since without him we wouldn’t be here. Whatever happened, they’ll be fine.”

“Can’t you just drop in on them? Make sure they’re OK?” Amy asked.

“Oh, Amelia Pond.” He patted her hand. “I can’t. Alternate universe. Would have to blow a hole through, and really, there’s been enough of that recently.” He motioned to Donna and Amy. “How did you two … ?”

“Donna’s my assistant,” Amy replied.

“You ought to see the benefits she offers,” Donna said with a grin. “Once my memory came back, I tried to find Torchwood. Couldn’t find them, but did find Petrichor. I remembered the word from the TARDIS databanks. I did some snooping about.”

“At the same time, we were trying to track down former companions ourselves,” Amy continued. “Donna happened to apply for the job, and we spent the interview plotting how miserable we’re going to make your life.”

The Doctor paled a bit. “How miserable?”

“Very.” Amy kissed his cheek.

——

It turned out to be quite the party, though the Doctor still wasn’t sure what it was for. Amy cheekily said it was a celebration of life. He said they should have had it on 11/11/11 in that case, but she rolled her eyes and had gone for another glass of wine.

There was dancing. There was always dancing at parties, but he was suspecting this was turning out to be more than a party. And, it was good to actually see all of these people again. Mickey had migrated back to Rory, and the two seemed to be discussing football. Martha and Donna were getting caught up, as Martha hadn’t known about Donna’s memories being repaired either. She and Mickey had spent the majority of the past year out of the country doing freelance work for UNIT. Wilf had put on dance music, 1930s swing that seemed to match the mood of the party. He found himself seeking out River. He still owed her a dance.

But Jack had gotten to her first, and they were laughing and dancing and making him feel like going over there and ordering Jack off her. But when Jack grabbed River in a hug, swinging her in the air until she shrieked that it hit the Doctor with the force of an asteroid slamming into the side of a dormant planet.

He’d never hugged her.

Never. Not as his 10th incarnation when she’d sat on that blasted seat and died to save them all, so they could have a future together. Not when she spent all that time comforting Amy, her own mother, in the aftermath of the Weeping Angels when she probably could have used a hug as well. Not when she helped strap him into the Pandorica, knowing that she was sending him off to possibly have their entire history erased. Not when she was forced to watch herself kill him again, when she was forced to dissect her own childhood, when she helped him fight the Silence, when she told him who she was … the list of grievances scrolled through his mind. A litany of missed opportunities.

The closest they’d ever come was the times they kissed, and really those tended to involve some sort of embrace. But, he’d never just hugged her. He’s hugged pretty much most of his friends. They all were quite the huggy lot, and really, hugs are very, very cool. Hell, he hugged her parents right in front of her and never even bothered to treat her the same as he did them.

That’s because, the rational side he’d thought he’d buried along with his sixth incarnation’s fashion sense, you never trusted her for a good bit of that time.

He hated that side of his brain.

Or, it continued, you knew what would happen if you ever held her for longer than a couple of seconds, so you never did.

He _really_ hated that side of his brain.

“Oi. Spaceman.” Donna bumped hips with him, jerking him out of his thoughts. She waved a cold bottle of ginger ale in front of him. “You all right?”

“Huh? Oh. Yes! Fine. Finer than fine. Absolutely fine, absolutely. Best night of my life.” And it a lot of ways, it really was one of them. It was a very good night. He took the bottle from her.

“Jealous?” She nodded toward where Amy had joined Jack and River, and Jack dipped River before spinning her out and deftly switching partners while River laughed, catching her breath.

“I am not jealous!” He sobered. “I just realized I’m a very foolish man,” he admitted, “in so, so many ways.”

Donna tilted her head and took a sip of her own drink. “Well, I can’t argue that. Now, are you going to mope about like you’re won’t, or you gonna do something about it.”

He frowned. “I do not mope.”

“Who spent nearly a year on that TARDIS with you, you skinny streak of nothing? You definitely mope.” She tilted her head. “Not that you didn’t have good reason to some of the time, but you know it hasn’t happened yet for her.”

“Every time we meet, I know how she’ll die,” he admitted. “I don’t like to think about it.”

“Maybe something did knock loose in that thick skull of yours this go-around,” Donna admitted.

“Why am I considering taking you with me again?”

“Face it, spaceman, you can’t live without-,” Donna cut off, stared at him in shock. “You mean it?”

“What? ‘Course I mean it! Wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it, would I? That is unless you don’t want to?”

“Don’t want to? Of course I want to!” Donna threw her arms around his neck and they laughed together. “Amy’s fine with it. Paid time off for extraterrestrial activities. Only company on the planet that’s got it built into the paperwork.” She pulled back and leveled him with a firm stare. “You sure it’s all right?”

“River … She has to go back to the Stormcage.”

“Amy told me about that. Can’t you just keep her out?”

“Can’t. Fixed events. She needs to be there in order for events to happen in her future that affect our past. It’s all back to front. My first time meeting her was her last. The Library. It gets all muddled there in the middle. Well, really, it’s not exactly back to front, but in a general sense. As she gets older, she’ll eventually meet younger versions of me until she reaches the Library. Means we can’t always be together.” He glanced at Donna out of the corner of his eye. “Could use a mate.”

“Just as long as you don’t want to mate, sunshine.” They laughed over the old joke. “And speaking of that, put up some sort of sign before you two have a shag in the console room. Hang out a couple of balloons or something.

“We haven’t shagged in the console room!” Yet, he silently added, but still managed to look outraged, flustered and intrigued all at the same time.

Donna gestured to Amy and Rory, who were now dancing themselves to the dulcet tunes of a Frank Sinatra ballad. “And them?”

“Amy and Rory have a life of their own,” he said wistfully.

“You’ll be back to see them often. And as for us? We’ll be amazing.”

He grinned at her. “Yeah, Donna Noble, we will.”

——

“We’ve got to be heading out,” Martha said as Mickey made his good-byes to Amy and Rory. “We’ve got a drive back, and I told Mum and Tish I’d go shopping with them in the morning, Mum sends her best wishes, which I never thought I’d be able to say that.”

“Great! That’s brilliant!” Remembering some of the “rules” of society that he’d read in a book once, he added, “Ah, she’s creative unlike any other.”

Martha raised an eyebrow. “Why are you quoting ‘The Rules’?”

“Am I?”

“Oh, you.” She kissed his cheek. “You’re all sort of gangly and awkward this go around, aren’t you? It’s kind of sweet. We’ll see you around, yeah?”

“Yeah.” Martha started to walk toward the gate, and the words suddenly spilled out. “Martha!”

She turned back. “Yeah?”

The Doctor shuffled from foot to foot, this sort of thing never coming easy. “I’m sorry,” he said, quietly, holding her gaze. “For everything. Thank you for what you did for me. We wouldn’t be here without you.”

Martha didn’t say anything for a moment, and he wondered if he’d said the wrong thing. Maybe he should have sent a card. Or a fish. Smoked salmon was said to be a nice gift. Then she ran to him, threw her arms around his neck and squeezed him tightly.

“I resented you for a long time,” she admitted in a whisper. “There was just so much to heal from after all that. You hurt a lot of people. Me, my family, and Mickey.”

“I know, I know.” He rocked her, the familiar guilt clawing at him like an old, unwelcome friend.

“But, you know what?” Martha pulled back. “You made me so much better. I’m happy now, really happy. I wouldn’t be who I am without you. Neither would Mickey.” She shot him a fond smile. “You made him grow up, he admitted it to me. He was so jealous of you and Rose, and so was I. But, it forced us to become better people and I get it now, I really do. If I lost him … I think I know a bit what you went through now. And for not getting that, I’m the sorry one.”

“Martha Jones.” His voice was full of pride. “You are amazing.”

“Always was.” She kissed his cheek. “Don’t be a stranger. I’m so glad you found someone. Remember, we’re your family. You don’t have to be alone.”

Mickey beeped the horn and Martha broke away, waved over her shoulder and disappeared out the gate.

And the Doctor thought maybe he didn’t really ruin lives the way he thought he did.

Then, he turned back to the remains of the party to face the one good-bye he dreaded.

“I probably should get her back home,” Jack said, approaching him with his hands shoved into the pocket of his greatcoat. He nodded toward where Sarah Jane, looking wan and exhausted, had rejoined the group after a trip to the loo with Amy’s help.

“How long does she have?” the Doctor asked.

“I can’t tell you that,” Jack replied, and in that told him everything.

“It’s cancer,” the Doctor confirmed. “Scanned her with the sonic when no one was looking earlier.”

“By the time I found out, it was too late for options. You get what I’m saying, don’t you?”

“Yes, and I’ll overlook you bending time this once. Don’t say anything more. I’d rather it be this way.” Not like with the Brig, who had waited for years with an extra brandy poured out for him. He’d never come, and now because of a well-meaning nurse, he never could go. No, Jack had done the right thing here.

“I can’t believe you used a vortex manipulator on her in this condition,” he scolded as they strode back to the dwindling group. “We’ll take her back in the TARDIS. You two can come with us.” He glanced at Donna. “Where’s your luggage?”

“Not in the boot this time. You two are to get me in the morning.” Donna pulled River aside and pushed a paper into her hand. “Coordinates for my flat. I’ll be ready ‘round 9. I was told you need to drive.”

“I heard that, Donna!”

“I want to be picked up on time, spaceman!”

The Doctor took Sarah Jane’s hands. “We’ll take you home in the TARDIS. It’ll be a lot easier on you. She’ll make sure you get back to the right place.”

“I never thought I’d see you again,” she admitted. “After you left us that last time, after helping Clyde, everything began going downhill so fast.”

“Here now, let’s not talk about that. It’s depressing. Tonight’s not depressing! You can tell them about when you, me and Harry were on Space Station Nerva. Remember that?”

“How could I forget?” The Doctor slipped an arm around Sarah Jane’s waist, and she leaned heavily into him as they made their way slowly toward the TARDIS. They were longtime friends talking a walk in the moonlight, strolling and reminiscing of good times. “I got stuck in the conduits just a few feet from you, and you kept ordering me about, yelling at me and calling me useless.” She laughed, until it ended in a raspy cough, and his heart broke. “I was so angry at you.”

“Well, rule 1. You were never useless.” He tapped her nose and grinned. “It did get you out of that conduit.”

“Yes, it did!” They were outside the TARDIS now, and the Doctor reached past Sarah Jane and opened the door. Light spilled out, illuminating the woman who’d been there for so much, and had known him for longer than anyone else there. He flicked a glance at River, Jack, and Luke, none of them moving toward the ship. River shook her head, smiling sadly. Amy and Rory stood next to her, arms around each other as tears silently ran down Amy’s cheeks.

“I’ll bring Luke back myself,” Jack said. “You two go on!”

The Doctor offered Sarah Jane his arm and his best smile, hoping she couldn’t see the tears he was struggling to keep back. “My Sarah Jane. Let’s go for one last trip.”


End file.
